The Underdog
by Crakaboom
Summary: Harry gets a personal trainer. Muggledom story.


**A/N: I do not own Harry Potter, this is a story for the Houses Competition. Muggledom.**

 **House: Ravenclaw**

 **Year: 4**

 **Category: Bonus**

 **Theme: Underdog**

 **Colour: Wenge**

 **Prompt: [Speech] "If you say that again I will punch you"**

 **Word Count: 1011**

Harry squeezed his way through the hall, avoiding the group of hulking football players who were flirting with the cheerleaders. He had never truly liked those people, as he was always the weak kid. He got beat up often enough that he could probably apply for a job as a punching bag and be successful.

He walked to class and set his stuff down, breathing a sigh of relief as he settled into safety.

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After class, Harry went to the lunchroom and sat in his usual spot, pulling out his lunchbox.

A few minutes into lunch, an enormous shadow towered over him. He looked up and saw none other than Draco Malfoy in a wenge and green letterman jacket - their school colours.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, looking back down at his book, knowing exactly what was coming.

"You have something I want," Draco replied, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

Harry sighed, pulling out his wallet and handing Draco the five dollars he had.

Draco eyed him wearily, "Is that all?"

"Yes, you took extra yesterday, so I don't have as much today," Harry continued to read his book, hoping Draco would leave him alone.

"Oh well, I guess you need to get a job so you can give me more in the future." With that, Draco punched Harry in the arm and walked away.

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Harry went through the rest of the school day with no more problems until the very end of the day. He was at his locker and, as he was putting his books away, the door slammed shut. It was Draco again, wanting something else. _What more could he possibly want?_

"Hey there Potter, got time for my homework?" Draco snarled, pushing papers into Harry's hands.

"Do I have a choice?"

Draco glared, "If you say that again, I will punch you,"

"Fine, when is it due?" He took the papers and put them in his backpack.

"I don't know, I just need it done." Draco walked away and Harry finished putting his stuff away and went home.

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When he got home, his dad was sitting at the table, as if he was waiting for him.

"Son, is there something at school bothering you...someone?" James Potter looked at his son expectantly.

James had noticed over the past year that his son had come home with bruises, scratches, and he seemed to keep losing all his money. He had a feeling that all of these things couldn't just be a coincidence.

"No, of course not. Why would that be happening to me?" Harry was awful at lying, and so his father was able to tell very easily that he wasn't being honest.

"Son, I can tell that something is bothering you," James pleaded, eyes begging his son to answer honestly.

"Oh dad, this kid has constantly been taking my money and hitting me, I just want it to stop," Harry slumped down into the wenge chair across from his father, eyes prickling with tears.

His dad patted him on the shoulder and said, "I think I know what to do, I found a personal trainer that could help you defend yourself."

"A-are you sure?" Harry wiped the tears out of his eyes, seeming to cheer up some.

"I'm positive," James smiled at his son and stood up, "Well, I gotta go."

Harry pulled out his - and Draco's - homework and finished it with ease, schoolwork came incredibly easy to him and so he finished it quickly.

 _I should probably go to bed, tomorrow after school I'll go to that trainer dad recommended._

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The next day after school, Harry walked to the house of the personal trainer his dad told him about.

"123 Memory Lane? That's a peculiar name for a street," Harry just realized that the name was part of a catch phrase quite a few people had.

He walked up to the house, it was massive, giving of an aura of power and wealth. The porch was grey with black steps. Wenge furniture covered almost every bit of the porch, barely leaving any room to get to the door.

As he knocked on the door, he took a deep breathe, worried that he wouldn't be good enough.

The door swung open to reveal a stocky man in gym shorts.

"May I help you?" The man said in a kind voice.

"I was told that you were a personal trainer and that you could teach me how to defend myself," Harry managed to get out in a normal tone.

The man laughed, "Sure, I'll teach you!"

He let Harry in, leading him to the kitchen first.

"You see, the first step is to eat a healthy, balanced diet," the trainer put some vegetables into a blender and turned it on.

He set it down on the table and pulled out two glasses, pouring the veggie juice into both of the cups. Taking a drink from one of them, he pushed the other to Harry.

Harry took a sip and almost spit it out. He set the glass down and swallowed.

"Not the most pleasant drink, I know, but it helps," the trainer downed the rest of his and beckoned to Harry, "Come on, it's time to start."

Harry finished his drink with a wince and followed the man to the gym.

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After the training, Harry slumped down into the chair he had sat in hours earlier, sweat pouring down his face.

"This is gonna be harder than I thought," he breathed, wiping his forehead with his shirt.

"Yeah, this isn't easy, it took me over a year to learn how to fight," the instructor smiled at Harry, offering him a water.

Harry took it graciously and gulped it down in one breath. He set the bottle down and thanked the muscular man.

"Oh, there's no need for that. What's your name by the way?" the instructor asked, making some more of the vegetable blend for himself.

"Harry, Harry Potter," Harry shook the man's hand.

"My name is Lucius, Lucius Malfoy."


End file.
